


Something Truly Wonderful

by buffoonprincess



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Family, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22588000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffoonprincess/pseuds/buffoonprincess
Summary: [Prequels AU] Anakin and Ahsoka are a brother and sister double act—one in a high-pressure job, still mourning his mother's death and estranged from his remaining family; the other hiding away from her own parents and surfing the complications of teenagedom. When Padmé, a PhD student from a well-off family, comes into their lives, there's suddenly the possibility of growth.(Also posted in ff.net)
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 49
Kudos: 56





	1. There are no miracles on Mondays

**CHAPTER 1**

_There are no miracles on Mondays._

_(Amy Neftzger)_

_..._

Anakin tried not to snort as one of his bosses moved on to the next slide in the presentation. The low lighting and the carpet in the conference room favored his nervous tapping on the floor, which went unnoticed by most of his co-workers round the table, except for the man next to him, who sent him some warning side looks. Choosing to ignore him, Anakin took a quick note of something the speaker had just said and immediately followed it with a 'Moron!' inside a circle. Although the company had a set of guidelines for meeting etiquette which included a couple of points on being mindful about time-management, Anakin confirmed when he looked at his wrist watch that they had already spent one hour more than what had been originally planned, yet the company's Chief Marketing Officer kept on going through graphs and numbers which had absolutely nothing to do with Anakin's job. This wouldn't have affected him much had it been a weekday, when he usually spent the whole day at the factory anyway, but on Saturdays he only worked in the mornings, so he had lunch at home and spent the rest of day doing whatever he wanted in the most comfortable clothes he could wear. However, on this particular Saturday, he was stuck in a meeting room listening to a dim-witted executive, on an empty stomach, in smart clothes, and it was already 2 p.m. And there was little chance that this meeting was ending any time soon.

The man next to him kicked him softly from under the table. This time Anakin gave him a pointed look, to which he replied with his own passive-aggressive trademark stare. Given that this man was this factory's Director and they met every day for work, he wisely chose not to upset him. As opposed to the other big fish in the room, who had come to this important meeting from all over the country, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not full of himself. He trusted all of his team and made sure everyone felt the company as theirs, so it was actually his fault that Anakin and his fellow Supervisors were trapped in corporate hell. Even though this meeting was supposed to be for the company Chiefs and Directors, Obi-Wan had insisted that at least his Supervisors were allowed in so that they could participate and share their ideas with the highest ranks in the company.

The original aim of this meeting had been to introduce the concept and general specifications of the latest car model that Tesla Inc. was developing, but then they decided that detailing the endless market analysis with charts, graphs and dozens of figures and percentages was necessary. It was well into the second hour of the meeting when this lady, the CMO, took the floor and started draining all of Anakin's patience. Not only was she going on and on about marketing aspects which none of the other executives in the room were concerned with, but her slides were impossible to follow. She was the type of person who believed her jb was more important than anyone else's. Besides that, somehow, she had looked at her slides full of tables with tenths of lines written in font size 7 and had regarded it as appropriate for the average human eye. As Production Control Supervisor, Anakin couldn't help but think of all the many things he could be doing instead of being trapped in this room listening to data analyses on whether customers preferred round-shaped rear-view mirrors or not. When he pierced through the page in his notepad from obsessive scribbling, Obi-Wan elbowed him discreetly.

"So, in conclusion," said the lady almost half an hour later, lifting everyone's spirits, "we're planning on contributing to a major rise in sales provided we're able to carry out this advertising campaign. The company already has a solid body of customers who trust us, but our demographic can and must be more diverse and flexible. We can only attract new people if we appeal to them, which will force us out of our comfort zone. But Tesla is about development, evolution... It is who we are. Thank you."

Most people clapped. The Regional Executive Officer made a few comments to thank her and ask her a few questions to which she replied with brief comments. Then a few other executives shared a couple of ideas. No one said anything about how irrelevant the last hour and half had been for everyone present.

"Does anyone else have a question or wants to share something?" the REO asked, looking around.

"Well, actually," Anakin started, leaving his pen on the table. Obi-Wan tried to stop him by whispering advisory words and some of his co-workers exchanged worried looks, but he paid no attention. "Ms Dio did in fact provide a thorough analysis" he said. "I was just wondering, has anyone done the math on how much money this meeting cost the company?" A dead silence fell on the room. Anakin looked around. "No? Well, considering that the company's general policy dictates each employee should have a productivity of 115C per hour and there are 19 of us in here, in the 4 hours we've been here, Tesla has _invested_ 9,044C."

Obi-Wan took a hand to his mouth and stared at his glass of water as if it was the most dazzling object he had ever seen.

"Okay, I think we all have been in this room for too long!" the REO laughed, nervously.

"Please, excuse Anakin," Obi-Wan intervened. "He is our youngest in management and he is as passionate about this job as our CEO himself." He gave Anakin a couple of pats on the shoulder.

"It's not whether I'm young or not, we should all be more mindful about-" Anakin blabbered.

"I think everyone is hungry and tired, Anakin," Obi-Wan cut him off. "We've already been here for hours, so let everyone to go have lunch. You don't want everyone to see you as the bad guy, do you?" Obi-Wan said jokingly, making everyone chuckle.

All the people in the room started to gather their things and stand up to leave while chatting quietly, and Anakin felt trapped in a cloud of unintelligible sound. How could Obi-Wan have put him in blast in front of everyone, including the REO, especially when he was making a valid point?

Suddenly, he lost his appetite. All he wanted was to arrive home. And punch a wall.

* * *

Despite that the company was paying for everyone's lunch that Saturday, Anakin chose to leave as soon as he had the opportunity. The 20-minute commute was a little shorter than usual due to a slight extra strain on the accelerator. Obi-Wan had called him a couple of times, which he didn't pick up, and instead turned up the music. He was entering the friendly town of Arlington while Justin Pierre sang 'Tell me that you're alright, that everything's alright' without making him feel any less angry. He approached the only house in the neighborhood without a green patch of grass and a cozy porch in the front and parked his Tesla Model 3 inside the garage. He confirmed he was home alone when no reply came after a loud 'I'm back!' and for some reason that made him feel even more irritated.

Instead of grabbing something from the fridge, Anakin got to the shower and let it drain away as much stress as possible. Once he felt a bit calmer and still with a towel around his shoulders, he opened the fridge to find a small bundle wrapped in aluminum foil with a note on purple Sharpie that read 'I figured you'd be late. Don't starve!' He opened it to find a very neat turkey sandwich just the way he liked it, so with that and a beer he sat on the couch with the purpose to watch some mindless TV.

He had just made himself comfortable when his phone buzzed and, groaning, he unlocked it with the only purpose of silencing it. But then he read the notification. It was from the girl he had been texting the day before. 'So excited about tonight!' Well, he had had enough human interaction for the rest of the weekend. 'Sorry, something came up and I won't be able to make it.' No rain checks, no rescheduling. He simply locked his phone after silencing it and fully focused on Netflix.

It was probably the first time in his life he couldn't wait for Monday.

* * *

Sunday morning arrived as uneventful as Saturday night had ended. He got up to find a couple of texts from the girl, which he completely ignored, and a quiet house. The door opposite to his room's was shut, and he figured that later he would have to hear to some crazy teenage stories from the night before. Trying not to be too loud at 7:30 a.m. on a Sunday, Anakin went downstairs and started to make breakfast in the as quietly as possible. But all of his caution went out the window when the person he had assumed was sleeping in her own bedroom upstairs came in through the front door at exactly 7:37. The teenage girl that had just walked in looked as if she had been wrestling with half a nightclub: her white and blue dyed dreadlocks sprung in every direction, her red top had the print of hand in neon yellow paint over her left breast, her miniskirt was a bit ragged on the side and she had a leather jacket over her shoulders which was two sizes bigger.

"What in the fucking hell are you doing coming back at this time, Ahsoka?" Anakin hissed, coffee mug in one hand, temper bursting once more.

Ahsoka froze where she stood, only noticing him just now. "What are you doing here? Didn't you have a date last night?" she asked, fear in her eyes.

"I asked you a question!" he replied, putting the mug on the counter and spilling hot coffee on his hand. "Shit!"

"Well, someone's grumpy," the teenager dared, rolling her eyes and leaving a purse on the sofa.

"Ahsoka! Explain right now what you were doing all night who knows where!" Anakin demanded, raising his voice and trying to ignore the burning feeling in his hand.

"Geez! What are you, a cop?" she said, taking the leather jacket off. Anakin could see that she had glitter all over her tan shoulders. "My friends and I went to a party. Then we went to another friend's house and we stayed there talking, and then we realized it was early morning. I figured, since you were spending the night out, you wouldn't find out and you wouldn't care."

"Ahsoka, I'm twenty-eight. You're _seventeen_. There's a big fucking difference," he spat, pressing a paper towel against his hand. "And what, is this what you're doing now? Doing things behind my back without me not knowing just so that I don't scold you? If you were so keen on hiding it then it's because you knew you were doing something wrong! Who were you with?"

"I already told you, I was with my friends."

"Ahsoka, who were you with?" he demanded, taking a step towards her.

"Why do you care?" she retorted, taking a step towards him as well. Being closer, Anakin could see her big blue eyes were swollen and she had deep dark circles which could have passed as part of the widely smudged make-up but Anakin wasn't fooled by that.

"Was that guy from the diner there? Is this jacket his?" he asked, menacingly. Ahsoka paused and looked down; she didn't dare lie, but at that Anakin knew he had guessed right. He got irate. "Haven't I told you to stay away from that guy?!"

"I don't understand why you hate him so much!" Ahsoka picked her purse and the jacket and made her way towards the stairs.

"Ahsoka, he's twenty-four and he-"

"You don't know him like I do!" she yelled, turning around. "Besides, nothing is going on and you're acting like he's trying to get me into a cult or something! If anything, it is _you_ who never tells me where you are and it is _you_ the one fucking random bitches!"

" _Ahsoka_!"

"What?!" she snapped at the foot of the stairs. "Why can _you_ do whatever you want and I can't? You're a hypocrite! You tell me you care about me but then never let me do what I like, or meet my friends, or try to understand how bad it is when you're the only one at school who never gets to hang out at all the important parties!"

"Then, if I'm so fucking horrible, why don't you go back to your own house?" he replied in a low tone, gritting his teeth. "Or better, move in with one of those junkies you call friends, let's see how that goes."

Ahsoka looked as if he had struck her in the face. He immediately regretted saying those words, but before he could gather himself she had run upstairs to her room. Defeated, he sat down at the kitchen aisle and finally threw the paper towel aside. Apparently, Sunday was going to be just as shitty as Saturday. He sighed as he let his head fall on his hand in a dramatic gesture which cost him a muffled cry of pain, as he had just hit himself on his recently burnt hand.

* * *

Despite knocking several times on Ahsoka's door to have a conversation before he left the house, the teenager refused to answer-let alone open the door. Indeed, Monday couldn't arrive fast enough. So, around 10 a.m., Anakin was on his way to the Arlington Social Services as he did every Sunday, expecting to be there at 10:15, provided that no one's mom or cousin stopped him for an annoying chat in which his only answers would be 'yes,' 'no,' 'sure,' and 'fine.' The suburbs were always peaceful on Sunday mornings; thankfully, there weren't many people around to stop him for a chat, only the occasional jogger-'overachiever who makes futile resolutions for summer in the last weeks of spring,' he thought-, and the dog being taken for a walk-'sure, you have to take up all the space on the sidewalk and _I_ have to step on the grass of this stupid lawn... Who puts fucking flamingos as decorations in _Arlington_?' he thought.

He walked by his old school and right next to it he found his destination. A one-floor building with pale yellow walls and a silver plaque at the entrance had its double doors wide open, so he walked straight in. He saw some children in the main hallway sitting on the floor playing with some trucks and cars and a small group of teenagers in one of the classrooms doing homework together. The atmosphere was quiet and cozy, but internally he was only hoping that no one would talk to him, for these were people he did not want to snap at. He kept on going until the end of that main hallway and exited through a back door that provided access to a backyard with a playground, a small cellar, and a second, smaller building that looked like a row of storage units. He went to the first roll-up door and opened the lock with a key that he had in the same chain as his house's, entering a room that had little to do with the classrooms he had just passed by a few seconds ago. Anakin turned on the lights of a workshop full of mechanical pieces on the floor, over different counters, on chairs and some of them were even dangling from the ceiling. There were tools in boxes and all around as well, but the highlight were the seven go-karts hanging on the wall in vertical position, which covered three quarters of the space in the room. There was an eighth car in the center of the workshop, on top of a structure as high as a table, which allowed a person to work on the engine from the bottom and the top.

Feeling a bit calmer at last, Anakin took off his jacket and put on his short-sleeved work shirt over his T-shirt. He turned on a speaker, synched his phone, and his music started to play at a nice volume. As he got to work on the engine, he thought that, at least for a while, he could forget about work and his argument with Ahsoka and finally focus with no interruptions on probably the one thing he liked.

* * *

"Anakin, there you are," someone said, interrupting him ten minutes later.

'Fuck this weekend,' Anakin thought while staring at the go-kart engine, wishing someone would wake him up from this nightmare. When he stood up and faced the door, he saw the center's Principal and a short brunette next to him. "Sorry to bother you, Anakin," the senior man said in his typically soft tone, "but I'm afraid I'll have to ask you a big favor." Mister Palpatine's blue eyes sparkled in an apologetic look as he offered a tender smile.

Anakin tried his best not to make any facial expressions at all. As annoyed as he was, he had a good relationship with the man and he did not wish to ruin that. He took a glimpse of the girl who was accompanying him once more and noticed she was regarding him carefully with her wide caramel eyes. She had long, curly hair tied up in a ponytail, and she was wearing smart clothes in pastel colors which, in a mechanic's workshop, seemed to be begging to be ruined by engine oil. She was short and fit, and Anakin immediately noticed the mole on her left cheek.

"This is Padmé and she'll be joining us as in intern as of tomorrow," Mr Palpatine informed. "She's working on her PhD thesis and her university assigned her to this center. Despite she officially starts tomorrow, she decided to come and get acquainted with the facilities and the staff a day in advance, but unfortunately I have an unofficial meeting with the Mayor's secretary and I won't be able to tour her around. I figured you wouldn't mind doing it for me, would you?" Again, the man's hard-to-say-no smile almost forced Anakin to agree immediately, but he had too much pent-up frustration from the last day and a half.

"Why? Will she get lost?" he retorted, almost greeting his teeth. The girl's shoulders tensed and she raised her eyebrows. Anakin felt her looking at him as if she could shoot lasers from her eyes, but he made an effort not to even glance in her direction. He had had his fair share of people like her in his college years, show-offs and suckers for extra credit.

"Well, she certainly won't get lost," Palpatine laughed, "but I had hoped you would show her the different rooms and explain her the weekly schedules. She'll be aiding Ms Unduli at the psychology office, but she should feel integrated with everyone. Since Padmé will also take part in the events we organize, you could maybe explain a bit about that too."

Anakin wiped his blackened hands on a piece of cloth and started to remove the work shirt. Palpatine's smile widened, taking that as Anakin's agreement. Internally, the blonde was cursing on everyone's ancestors.

"Please, Mr Palpatine, I truly mean no inconvenience," Padmé said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was mellow and sweet. "I only came by the Social Services because I thought everything would be quiet on a Sunday, but since you were not expecting me until tomorrow you are under no obligation to bother the staff to..."

"Dear, please, it's nothing," Palpatine interrupted her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Anakin is a very nice young man, he won't have a problem." Padmé glanced to side, not truly believing it. The supposedly nice young man was looking at her with a clenched jaw and crossed arms. "Well, I'll leave you to him, Padmé, and I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you, Anakin!" And with that, Principal Palpatine left.

Anakin looked at Padmé for the same amount of time she avoided his look, focusing on one of the cars on the wall. She was nervously tugging at one of her sleeves.

"So. This is the garage," Anakin said dryly, walking towards the door. "The other two storage units have stuff for camping trips, holiday decorations, sports events, and fundraisers."

They exited the garage. Anakin was reaching for the roll-up door when Padmé addressed him for the first time. "Why do the Arlington Social Services have a garage?"

"Well, what do you think those go-karts are for, Ms PhD?" he asked, flashing a charming smile which failed to mask his sarcasm by very little.

"Races?" she ventured, inhaling loudly and lifting her chin.

"You _are_ a smart one," Anakin replied, smiling again. "Yes, the center organizes events every once in a while and I set up a circuit for the karts in the school's track."

"Oh... I saw the school when I arrived. I mean, the bus stop is right there," Padmé said. "I didn't imagine they would share their grounds with the center."

"Yeah, we're very lucky," Anakin said in a grim tone.

"I'm sorry, is something wrong with you?" Padmé confronted him in the middle of the backyard. She stood in the morning sunlight, pretty as an angel and angry as a devil. Anakin regarded her carefully, for he hesitated to engage in a full-blown argument with her. He convinced himself it was because having a problem with the girl would lead to having a problem with Mr Palpatine.

"I'm just having a shitty weekend," he replied. "This is the backyard, as you can see," he changed the subject, "and, over there, there's a playground. That big window at the back of the main building is the kitchen." As he motioned toward there, Padmé followed, cross-armed. "I'm pretty sure there's no one right now in there. Y'know, 'cause it's a _Sunday_."

If only looks could kill... but luckily for Anakin, that wasn't the case.

"This is a _fridge_ and that's a _stove,_ and you access the cafeteria through _here,"_ Anakin went on mockingly, once inside the kitchen. "This is where people _eat._ And that long _hallway_ takes you to the _classrooms_ and the different offices."

As they accessed the main hallway, Anakin's tone softened a little. Padmé saw a couple of kids who were playing on the ground and she waved at them. They didn't wave back immediately, but after gathering the courage to, they ran around the corner shyly.

"This is the staff room," Anakin continued, turning on the lights. There was a big round table with eight chairs, a small sofa and a kitchen counter. "If you bring something to eat you can put it in this fridge right here. And if you're going to work with Luminara, this is her shelf... her office is the one with the sign that says Dr Luminara Unduli, two doors ahead. I'm sure you can find it on your own. You can read, right?"

"I don't know," Padmé retorted, gritting her teeth. "Can you stop coercing me to fit your flawed belief that the world is against you?"

That comment felt like a slap on the face. Anakin took a couple of seconds to recover. "Do you always use complicated words or do you not try to be a smartass all the time?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll make a mental note of not using words longer than three syllables when I talk to you from now on," she said, firmly.

"Well, hopefully you won't have to talk to me again," he replied.

"Hopefully," she agreed bitterly.

They both fell silent but neither drew their eyes from the other.

Finally, Padmé spoke. "I guess I can make-do with what you've shown me. Just tell me which are the events Mr Palpatine mentioned and I'll go."

"Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, the spring festival, and three annual fundraisers, one of which is in two weeks," Anakin recited monotonously.

"Great. Thank you for your help," she said sarcastically. "And _sorry_ to have bothered you."

Padmé stormed out of the staff room and Anakin cursed for the thousandth time on that Sunday, partly because he knew it would upset Palpatine if Padmé told him about what had just happened, and party because he could feel a faint, sweet scent that reminisced in the room even after she was gone.

* * *

When he returned home in the afternoon, we found Ahsoka was gone. And when she came back in the evening, she went straight upstairs, shut her bedroom door, and refused to open it even to grab dinner. 'Her fucking loss.'

Then, the moment Anakin had been waiting for the last two days finally arrived. 'New week, new life,' he thought on Monday morning as he turned off his alarm. He got up from bed more quickly than usual and jumped in the shower. Mad at Ahsoka as he was, he still made enough breakfast for the both of them. It was still dark when Anakin jumped in his Model 3 and headed to the highway. There was less traffic than usual and the randomized playlist on his phone wasn't popping any songs he didn't feel like listening to. Even once at work, no one talked to him about the tense moments with the CMO last Saturday, and Obi-Wan didn't call him to his office to talk to him. Everything was normal. The beginning of this new week had brought Anakin's routine back on track.

Except that, right before leaving the Tesla factory at 5pm, he was checking his phone for the first time since noon when he saw several text messages from Ahsoka.

_Anakin, my parents came to pick me up from school and they're making me go to their house with them. (2:04)_

_Anakin, come pick me up, please. (2:13)_

_Why don't you carry your phone with you at work?! Just come over when you see this, ok? (2:21)_

_I know it's kinda pointless to text you because you won't read this until you finish your afternoon shift, but I really miss you right now. (2:47)_

_I'm so sorry I yelled at you (2:47)_

_I'm also sorry we fought (2:52)_

_I'm so scared, Anakin... they're yelling at each other again. I just know they've been using recently. I didn't look around that much when they brought me in but I just know. Maybe they're on it right now... And I'm scared. Because I know they're capable of so much when they're like this. (3:07)_

_Sorry, I don't mean to use you as a diary (3:07)_

_I've been locked in my room the whole time. I'm ok, ok? (3:58)_

_I just hate this fucking house so fucking much (4:26)_

_I'm okay. Please, don't call Mr Palpatine... Just don't. Just please come pick me up when you can (4:41)  
_

He had never dialed anyone as quickly before. When she picked up after the second ring, there were no remnants of the angry barks from the previous day. Ahsoka's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"Hey, Skyguy. Finished work?" She sounded a bit nasal, probably congested from crying. Anakin _knew_ she had been crying. Every fiber of his being pulsed with hate towards Ahsoka's biological parents.

"Are you alright?" he demanded. He was running to the parking lot. He didn't even see Obi-Wan waving him goodbye as they crossed paths in the hallway.

"I'm ok."

"Are you safe?"

"I'm... yeah. I locked the door. And I'm under the bed," she chuckled softly. "I just felt like coming down here... don't know why. They've calmed down a bit. They think I'll be staying here."

"Whatever you do, don't hang up until I arrive there, ok?" he instructed, trying to mask his anxiety.

"Ok."

They didn't speak much while Anakin drove to Arlington, but feeling her breathing every once in a while reassured him she would be okay. He wasn't sure about what to do once he arrived in there-after all, that couple of bastards were still Ahsoka's legal guardians. Therefore, once he pulled over in front of the two-story white wooden house, he got out of the car and rang the doorbell with no plan of action.

Ahsoka's mother opened the door. Her gaze was distant, as if her small pupils and watery eyes didn't quite capture the world around her. She was scratching her arm insistently, but she seemed overall relaxed. Too relaxed.

Anakin barged in. He saw Ahsoka's father in the living room; as opposed to his wife, he could barely remain quiet. He jumped at Anakin the moment he saw him, but Anakin was much faster and coordinated than him. He evaded the man easily and climbed up the stairs to Ahsoka's room two steps at a time. As he was still carrying his phone, Ahsoka opened the door the moment he arrived. She hugged him as if her life depended on it, and Anakin forced her to let go only because they had to get out of the house as soon as possible. Sheltering her with an arm around her shoulders, Anakin guided Ahsoka downstairs, trying to evade her father's clumsy swipes.

"Go to the car, Ahsoka! Quick!" Anakin instructed, letting go of the teenager. She immediately obeyed and Anakin was able to block the man's fist just time. He struggled shortly with him until he overpowered Ahsoka's father. Pushing him backwards, Anakin held his ground, for the man seemed to have no intention of acknowledging his defeat. Gathering himself, he charged at Anakin once more, in even a wilder euphoria; he was imprecise but strong and fast, and Anakin was able to dodge him only so much. When the man's fist landed dangerously close to his right eye, he cried in pain. He drew a hand to his eyebrow and confirmed he was bleeding, and then he saw his own blood on the man's hand, garnished with three different rings.

When Anakin attacked, he wasn't fully sure it was pure self-defense. Hate, spite, and anger swirled in his chest and climbed all the way to his brain, shutting the rest of the world out. This man had hurt him, but he had also hurt Ahsoka. Repeatedly. And he knew too well how there was a special place in hell for junkies who drew innocent people into their own misery.

"Anakin, stop!" he heard Ahsoka cry out. When he regained control over himself, he saw the man wasn't a threat anymore. He felt a sharp pain in his side and his jaw, and figured Ahsoka's dad had had a couple more of lucky strikes. He let go of the defeated man as someone walking away from dog shit on the sidewalk. He put his arm across Ahsoka's shoulders once more and they exited the house. Her mother was still standing by the door, and she smiled at them as they walked past.

Anakin led the teen to the shotgun seat, climbed into the driver's and left the house quickly enough to make the tires screech. They didn't speak at all during the way to Anakin's house. It was only after he parked inside the garage and the door closed behind them that he asked "What did they want?"

"For me to quit school," Ahsoka replied faintly.

"To deal?"

She nodded.

All of a sudden, the stupid annoyances from Saturday and Sunday didn't seem troubling anymore.

* * *

As her family sat down for dinner on Monday evening, Padmé was gleaming. The four of them were seated at a big wooden table; the pastel blue of the walls tastefully complimented the white marble floor and the white Corinthian columns around the spacious dining room of the downtown loft. The only vibrant color was provided by two pots of red roses in full bloom at either side of a huge glass window. The family were quietly helping themselves to the food on different platters and bowls. Padmé could not wait to tell them about her day, for it been fantastic; on the one hand, Dr Unduli had welcomed her warmly in her office and had provided her with great guidelines for her thesis subject matter and internship work. Also, the rest of the staff had been incredibly sweet with her as well, not to mention that Dr Unduli's patients were truly amazing kids and teens. And lastly, just as she had hoped, she hadn't seen that horrible Anakin guy from the day before. When her mother asked, how everyone's day had gone, as she always did, Padmé was the first one to reply.

"I started my internship today. At the Arlington Social Services. I sat with Dr Luminara Unduli while she tended to five patients and then we spoke for quite a while about my work. We got so into it that we completely forgot about lunch and then she invited me to eat with her. You have to meet her, she's a brilliant woman. She told me she's working on a book. And she's just so kind and humble..."

Padmé's sister, Sola, smiled at her from across the table.

"Oh..." Padmé's mother, Jobal, muttered. "So it was today. Just make sure you're careful, alright, sweetie?"

"Careful? What do you mean?" she asked, still smiling.

"Well, you never know in that type of places. The people in there," her mother explained, picking up her glass of red wine.

Padmé dropped her hand softly on the table. "What about the people in there, mom?"

"Well, you do not know them, and for all I know those children have been raised in the streets, barely schooled," Jobal said, raising her eyebrows. "They have been taught to pickpocket and..."

"Mom!" Padmé interrupted, her good mood now gone.

"Your mother is right, Padmé. You have to be careful," her father intervened. "We know you are excited about this little adventure of doing charity work, but make sure this phase does not cost us, alright?" Padmé's father didn't raise his eyes from his food as he spoke.

"A _phase_? Dad, it's my PhD thesis," Padmé retorted. She looked at Sola for support, only to see her shake her head almost unnoticeably. Disappointed, Padmé carried on. "I'm doing fieldwork for my research! I am getting professional experience on..."

"On psychology, Padmé. On psychology. How much research can you do?" he interrupted. He paused briefly for a sip of wine. "In the end, everything comes down to subjectivity and opinions in that field. I told you before... If you want to do real research, continue on medical school, become a real doctor."

"Well, that is not fair, Ruwee," Jobal complained. "The girl likes what she's doing, let her do it in peace," she smiled at Padmé while the man rolled his eyes. "She's a brilliant young lady... she'll be a great therapist. She wants to know how poor people live and that's fine. Just be careful, my dear. Those people are always too quick for violence."

"You're wrong," Padmé sentenced, mouth dry.

"You'll get mugged someday and you'll understand," Ruwee replied, rolling his eyes.

"What about you, Sola?" Jobal moved on. "Did you book a fitting for your wedding dress?" Sola provided a much more joyful topic for their parent's liking.

Padmé tried to force the food down her throat so that her parents wouldn't bother her about why she wasn't eating. In truth, Padmé had completely lost her appetite. And for all the ways in which she taught people how they could handle their emotions in moments of high stress, she found herself unable to rise from the pit of shame and meaninglessness she had just been thrown into.

The week was off to a great start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I haven't written fanfiction in around 10 years (no exaggeration). I hope you enjoyed this! Reviews will be much appreciated :)


	2. How you look at it is pretty much how you'll see it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin Skywalker, the Production Control manager at the Tesla factory near the town of Arlington, had a terrible weekend in which, among other things, he had a heated argument with his sister, Ahsoka, and met an annoying uptown girl called Padmé. On Monday evening, Anakin received several texts from Ahsoka, in which she let him know that her biological parents--a couple addicted to heroin and other substances--had forced her to go to their house. After a physical fight with them, Anakin brought Ahsoka home. Now, Ahsoka and Anakin have to deal with their own emotional turmoil. Seeking solace in routine, Anakin has trouble in taking an optimistic outlook. Meanwhile, Padmé struggles with her own insecurities.

**CHAPTER 2**

_ How you look at it is pretty much how you'll see it _

_ (Rasheed Ogunlaru) _

…

She could pinpoint the exact moment the first ray of sun shone over the hills of Arlington. She wasn't paying particular attention to her surroundings, let alone the rotation of the Earth, but as Ahsoka was sitting by herself on the sofa, wrapped around a fuzzy blanket, her mind was void of any thoughts or images. The TV was unnecessary, her phone was off. Ahsoka had been sleeplessly sitting in the living room since 3:30 a.m., completely uninvolved with the passing of time. There was a private comfort in the darkness which had been surrounding her, a poetic numbness that only the quietness of the night conjured, mixed with a bit of self-loathing she had been indulging in for the past few hours. However, when that first ray found its way through the broken blinds in the living room window and struck one of her slippers on the floor next to the old couch, she knew that it was time to get back on her feet and start over.

She wasn’t sure she would be able to.

All too suddenly, memories from the previous day took shots at her brain in the most tyrannous assault. Her parents standing by the school entrance. Her confused friends. Their disappointed looks when she told them she wouldn’t join them at the mall. The loud cars passing by. The loud chatter of the students. The loud voices of her parents as they drove her to their house. Their loud yelling on the other side of Ahsoka’s bedroom door. Their loud yelling in the living room downstairs. Her loud heartbeat, echoing endlessly inside her head. Her chest, shrinking. The smell of dust. The smell of captivity. The absence of an exit. The enormous weight of her own body and her inability to move it. The uncertainty that the phone battery would last long enough to get her through this. Herself, immobile. Powerless. Helpless. Useless.

She wouldn’t be able to do it again.

"Morning, Snips," she heard, turning her head for the first time in hours. Already dressed and blonde hair still a bit damp, Anakin was frowning. "Didn't expect to find you here."

When he sat next to her, the comforting scents of shaving cream, shampoo, and fabric softener summoned her senses back to reality. She realized the previous night had not been kind to any of them; Ahsoka saw the scar and the bruises that her father’s rings had left across the right side of Anakin’s face, too dangerously close to his eye. Yet, there he was, next to her, just as he had been last night. The phone buzzing, displaying his name. His voice on the other end. His footsteps coming upstairs. The knock on the door. His real voice. His arm around her shoulders. Him bringing her home.

He was pressing his lips and scratching softly the burnt spot on his hand while looking pointedly at her.

"I woke up and then I couldn't go back to sleep,” Ahsoka finally replied in a husky voice. “Felt pointless to stay in my bedroom."

He hesitated before asking a question to which he already knew the answer. "Are you okay?"

She paused, looking down at her slipper on the floor, flooded in sunlight. "I don't know."

“You can skip school today if you want. Not that I want to encourage that, but probably I’ll feel better today knowing that they can’t show up and take you to that shithole again.”

Probably climbing Everest would have been easier than making this decision. Showing up at school would mean that her friends would ask questions, tons of them; it would mean having to sit through lessons while her mind would drift away and consequently get told off; it would mean having to withstand conversations and social interactions while every fiber of her being begged for her to be left alone; it would mean risking being intercepted by her parents once again; it would mean going to her scheduled appointment at the Center and, once there, reliving the whole story once more. But not showing up at school would mean being left alone, without her friends and their conversations; it would mean no funny fun facts from her biology teacher; it would mean no lunch next to her friends; it would mean hurting her own progress with Dr Unduli; it would mean no opportunities to get better.

She simply didn’t know if she would be able to.

She looked at the spot in the window where the sunlight was coming from, a strip of broken and missing slats that should have been there to shield her. “You have to fix that blind, y’know.”

Anakin was caught a little bit off guard, but then looked at the window and the dangling slats. “And deprive you from that beautiful sight of the sky?” he replied, smirking.

"You're a mess of an adult," she retorted jokingly, but then she realized there actually was a whole world out there, shining in daylight, past the broken pieces she had been focusing on.

He placed a hand on the nape of her neck and squeezed it gently. She responded in kind, moving closer to him and wrapping her arms around his torso. He placed his chin on top of her head, hugging her back.

"Do you want to skip school today?" he tried once again.

She still wasn’t sure she would be able to make it through the day, but she knew Anakin would be there nonetheless. Her brother would always be there.

"No. I'll go," she said before finally putting the slipper on and feeling the warmth of the sun. 

* * *

Much to her parents’ dismay, Padmé insisted on going from her home in Saint-Michel city to the Arlington Social Services by bus, which was possible due to the fact that these two independent cities were separated from each other by a single street. The hour-long commute involved two bus rides, and for the last couple of days Padmé had been spending the first one completely focused on her tablet--reading the patient files which Dr Unduli had provided her with--and the second one going through her notes for her thesis. This strategy gave her an extra twenty minutes everyday for brainstorming, last minute changes, and much needed reviewing. She only stopped reading the profiles to greet the occasional passenger that sat beside her; otherwise, she focused on memorizing the names and the key information on each of the patients that were scheduled for that Tuesday.

On the other hand, she hadn’t narrowed down the subject matter of her thesis yet, and it was driving her insane. She counted the days left until her next meeting with her thesis director, already in fear she wouldn’t be able to make any progress before that. She opened a file called ‘Brainstorm’ and skimmed the chaos she had handwritten on the blank page. There were terms such as “mental health”, “teen substance use”, “brain development”, “teen behavior” and “preventing drug use” in balloons, connected with arrows in every direction, including question marks in bold placed next to several ideas written in a hurry. There were names of authors, researchers, scholars, sprouting from almost every single one of those balloons, some even scratched but then revalidated by means of a tick—or several—next to them. Asterisks next to some words led to quite a long list of footnotes in which, to her own dismay, the handwriting was almost unintelligible. She had no idea how she would ever be able to untangle this mess.

As the second bus finally came to a stop outside Arlington High, Padmé put all her belongings in her designer tote bag and made a mental list of the patients she would be meeting that day. She was walking the few meters which separated the school entrance and the Social Services center when she saw Mr Palpatine a few cars away. He was locking his black sedan while talking on the phone, but he still waved at Padmé when he saw her, so she waited for him by the doors to say hi.

"Well, Mr Secretary, that will be no problem,” she heard Mr Palpatine say when he finally came closer. Padmé made an effort to focus on her shoes. “It should get here by next week, so I'm pretty sure it'll be delivered to us before the fundraiser.” Mr Palpatine finally came to halt in front of Padmé, smiling warmly. “Yes. I'll see to it. Thank you, sir. Good day, sir." 

"Good morning, Mr Palpatine,” Padmé said, once the senior had put his phone in his pocket.

“Well, hello, dear. How are you? I didn't see you yesterday and I wanted to ask you how your first day had gone," he told her, placing a soft hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, quite well, actually. Dr Unduli is amazing and very kind," she replied, immediately regretting not being able to come up with more interesting feedback. 

"Indeed, you’re in good hands,” he replied, smiling. “You did arrive a bit early, didn’t you?” he asked in a confused, but gentle tone.

“Oh, well I usually leave with some time to spare in case the bus is late or something unexpected happens," she explained.

Mr Palpatine gave her a bewildered look. “You come all the way from Saint-Michel by bus? Is there a line with such a route?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, actually. I take a bus in Saint-Michel which brings me to the city limits and then a second bus in Arlington.” He huffed at the idea, but Padmé was quick to justify herself. “It’s alright, though. I usually take advantage of that time to read or review my notes.”

“And you do this every day?” he questioned, frowning.

“It really is no inconvenience,” she excused herself, adjusting the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. The idea of looking silly in the eyes of her supervisor made her try to find more reasons to validate her own personal decision. “There are even night buses… In fact, I was thinking that maybe one of these days I would stay a little longer in the staff room because I focus better here than at home.”

Mr Palpatine nodded slightly, but he seemed to be deep in thought. “Just make sure you don’t overstay,” he finally replied, “because the only people with a master key are me and Anakin. Remember him? The boy I introduced you to on your first day.”

“Oh, yes." She remembered him quite well. Despite making an effort the previous day to avoid him, in the end they hadn’t crossed paths, thankfully. "I didn't see him yesterday," she commented as casually as possible.

"That's where I was going. He only comes to the Center on Sundays, so if there’s a problem it might be a long while before either of us can come and help.”

"I see," she replied, more relieved that there would be no risks of accidentally crossing paths with the rude blonde than getting accidentally locked up at night.

“Anyway, just try not to wait until night time to go back home, please. It saddens me to say so, but sometimes the streets can be a bit dangerous both in Arlington and Saint-Michel,” he begged her, sounding way warmer than her own parents. “If you ever need it, I’ll be happy to drive you home, alright, dear?” Mr Palpatine pleaded.

A few minutes later, having said goodbye to Mr Palpatine at his office door, Padmé went straight to Dr Unduli’s office. Luminara was already there, typing on her laptop, hot cup of coffee next to her on the desk. Her glossy black hair was tied in a high bun and her big, round eyes were fixed on the screen as she typed away. When she saw Padmé, she smiled broadly and motioned for her to come in.

“Close the door behind you, dear,” she instructed in her delicate desi accent. “This is part of a last minute idea I had this morning. I’m working on a table chart for you, so that you can fill it in with the information you get from today’s sessions. It is similar to the notes we take for a diagnosis, but it is fully focused on your research topic, so I think this will help you narrow it down,” she said, smiling. When Padmé looked at the screen, she kicked herself for not being able to come up with something so simple yet so useful but she chose not to voice her frustrations. 

“With this, you will be in full charge of taking the notes from now on,” Luminara continued, and Padmé’s chest shrunk. She had been in therapy sessions for her undergraduate and master’s, but she had never been fully in charge of key aspects, such as the note-taking. She bit her own lip at the thought of compromising Dr Unduli’s work because of her silly mistakes.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I… What if I…?” she stuttered, but Luminara raised a hand.

“I am more than sure,” Luminara reassured her, smiling.

Padmé didn’t stop gnawing at her lip for the next three hours. During each of those sessions, she sat in a corner, trying to record as much information as possible. ‘We record trees, not a forest,’ her thesis director would always say, but she was not sure that the trees which particularly interested her were the truly important ones. When she ran out of space in the empty slots of the table that Luminara had printed for her, she resorted to a referencing system that linked those slots to the notes in her notebook.

During lunch break, Padmé politely declined joining Luminara at the staff room and stayed at the office classifying the notes and rewriting everything in a clearer way. Thus, when the time for the first afternoon session arrived, her stomach was nearly growling.

“Padmé, have you eaten?” she heard Dr Unduli ask. When she raised her eyes from her notes, she saw the woman leaning on the door with a cup of coffee in her hands. She tried to think of a white lie, but hesitation gave it away. “You know, I really appreciate you taking this so seriously… I really admire your passion and your hard work,” Luminara said, approaching the desk. She sat down opposite Padmé, placing her mug delicately on the table, and then extended a soft hand that she rested on top of hers. “However, there’s more to this job than this, and there’s more to you than your work,” she said, motioning to the notes. “Collecting data is crucial for your thesis, I know. But while we are in session, your priority should be the patient.”

“But what if I don’t record something important?” she said, with a hint of trembling in her voice. “People give many details sometimes, and if you have to go through my notes afterwards, I just--”

Luminara interrupted by shaking her head. “I trusted you with this task because I trust your judgement. As a colleague. As long as you’re here, we’re a team. And teammates work together, so… I want you to be more present and active in this next session. Don’t sit in the corner. Sit with me and the patient, and engage in the conversation. I want you to look at the patient 95% of the time and your notebook as little as possible.”

These new instructions gave Padmé pause. She didn’t have the authority to start asking questions to someone else’s patients. She didn’t have the experience to fully discern what made a good diagnosis and what didn’t. Luminara had said that therapy sessions were not college homework… but how was she supposed to use them for her college papers, then?

“Now, you have exactly fifteen minutes until our patient arrives, so go to the staff room and eat something, have a cup of coffee… Take a break.”

As she sat by herself in the staff room eating a sandwich from the vending machine, she opened her phone for the first time in hours. She had several texts from Dormé and Palo--her two best friends--and a couple of videos of Sola from her wedding dress fitting. She stretched her back and moved her neck around a few times while trying to keep her persistent thoughts of the sessions at bay. She wasn’t completely successful, but at least her stomach wasn’t empty anymore.

The first appointment for the afternoon sessions was a teenage girl. Just as most patients, she was wary of Padmé when she saw her sitting in one of the armchairs but chose to say nothing. She was carrying a backpack full of buttons with rock bands and anime logos; Padmé really admired her dyed dreadlocks and thought that the white and blue in her hair really brought out her round blue eyes. Judging from looks alone, this girl must have been one of the cool kids at school; not only was she a beautiful young girl, she seemed to have a self-assured demeanor.

“Hello, Ahsoka, how have you been?” Luminara greeted the girl, closing the door behind her.

“Good,” she replied, as most patients did.

Luminara signaled for Ahsoka to sit and she chose one end of the sofa. Luminara sat on the other. “This is Padmé, she’s a psychologist too, and she’s working on a PhD thesis, right now,” she started, giving Padmé the floor.

“Just like Luminara, I want to work with children and teens,” she explained trying to hide her shaky voice, “so as part of my academic development, the university has assigned me to this Center as an intern of sorts. I’m here to learn as much as I can from Luminara... but also from you,” she finished and looked Ahsoka in the eye.

The girl seemed surprised. “What could you learn from me? I almost don’t even know what PhDs are.”

Padmé chuckled. “Honestly, me neither,” she said, rolling her eyes and letting out a breath. It made Ahsoka giggle.

Padmé discovered that this teen found no trouble in having two therapists once the ice had been broken. She seemed a bit evasive, tugging at her sleeves constantly, but not because of Padmé’s presence; she began talking of how she was upset because of a misunderstanding with her friends and a guy she was dating, and Padmé felt embarrassed she had been so self-centered. She had been focusing on her effect on the patients rather than on the patients themselves. It didn’t take her ten minutes to realise she was truly engaging for the first time in the session. Still, she had to make an effort not to write down too much... until there was nothing to write. Because Ahsoka stopped talking.

All of a sudden, the teenager covered her eyes with one hand and shook her shoulders gently. She cried without saying a word for several minutes. Padmé had seen situations like this before, but none of her previous tutors had managed it the way Luminara did. She simply waited, keeping a relaxed posture and a kind gaze. Padmé chose to follow her lead. When Ahsoka finally spoke, she told them of fear; she rambled on resentment, and loneliness, and betrayal. She said she was tired. Repeatedly. 

And then she spoke of courage and hope. She spoke of love and family.

Padmé realised she had been completely immersed in Ahsoka’s retelling of last night’s incident when Luminara spoke for the first time in a good while. “Why didn’t you call the center, Ahsoka?”

“Because,” she said, tearing up again. “if the government gets in on this, they’ll split me from my brother. They’ll just assign me to some random family who knows where and I don’t want another house. I have a house.”

“Ahsoka, your brother takes good care of you and you love him very much, but he is not your guardian and he could get in real trouble if your parents decide to sue.”

“Fuck them, they’re too high to even tie their own shoes,” she spat, wiping her tears. “ He saved me. He was at work, but when he finished his shift he saw my texts and he called me immediately. He was on the line the whole way. We had a fight on Sunday, because I got home really, really late and he trash talked my friends, but even though I said horrible things to him he still came and he got me out of there. And then this morning we made breakfast together and we made up and he asked me if I wanted to skip school but I chose not to.”

“It was very brave of you to face a new day, Ahsoka,” Padmé said, making the girl tear up again. “Your brother seems to be a loving person, and it is wonderful you have someone you can count on unconditionally. It is great you have such a nice person to hold on to, but until you’re eighteen…” 

“He wanted to skip work to get me to school and then back home after the session, but I told him not to.” Ahsoka added. “He’s been sneaking texts from work the whole day. He’s scared my parents showed up again today. I was scared, too, but they didn’t. So I promised him, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart.”

Clearly, the teen was in no state at present to hear about legal procedures, so both women chose to drop the subject. The remaining minutes Luminara reminded Ahsoka of the several techniques they had been working on to prevent anxiety episodes and they did breathing exercises as well as writing reminders in Ahsoka’s diary.

Once the girl had left and Luminara had closed the door, Padmé let out a breath she had been holding without realizing. “I cannot believe that there are parents like that,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“Ahsoka is a very special patient,” Luminara said, sitting back down on the sofa. “The first time we met, four years ago, she had just been discharged from rehabilitation. She was thirteen.”

Padmé covered her face. “I wish I could do something to stop her from being this scared ever again.”

Luminara smiled. “Courage begins by trusting oneself.”

* * *

_ I just finished with Luminara… I’m going straight home as promised, so don’t worry. The guys got upset that I wouldn’t join them at the mall but I guess they’ll have to deal with it. I’ll text you when I’m home.  _ (3:03)

When Anakin read Ahsoka’s text, he let out a sigh of relief. He entered the showers at the gym for Tesla employees and tried to relax as the water drained his exhaustion and worries away. He tried to focus on the logical outlook: that everything would be fine, that Ahsoka would arrive home safely, that her parents wouldn’t intercept her, that they wouldn’t sue him for kidnapping or physical abuse. However, when Anakin exited the showers and started to get ready for the afternoon shift, he saw his own reflection in the mirror and he couldn’t help but focus on the scar across the right side of his face. Right there, on his face, was the imprint of the violent surge that had possessed every corner of his mind and had led him to a dark pit of complete disregard of reality. The same feeling that had taken over him the previous night spread as a dark flame from his chest to his head and up to every single fingertip. He hadn’t been aware he had been harming another person until Ahsoka brought him back to the surface. He should have been angry at Ahsoka’s father for injuring him, but there was a questioning voice in Anakin’s mind that demanded to know why he had lowered himself to the level of that man, hating himself for having done so.

Even some minutes later, when he was at the cafeteria having a latte before starting the shift at 4, he was still struggling to get his mind off the previous night. When he got confirmation from his little sister that she was safely home, he replied with a single emoji in hopes that it would deceive her into thinking he was calm. He checked his email, desperate to find something that required his complete focus, but apart from a notice from the center that there would be a meeting on Saturday evening, he found nothing too worthy. He was seriously considering getting started with work early when he saw Obi-Wan enter the cafeteria and set his eyes on him. Cursing to himself, he acknowledged Obi-Wan’s greeting from afar, a clear indication he would join Anakin once he had got his cup of coffee. By that time, Obi-Wan would probably have figured out that Anakin had been avoiding him all day. 

“You look a little different today. Did you get a haircut?” Obi-Wan mocked him when he sat at the table.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anakin replied, knowing fully well that was not the end of it.

“Was it something embarrassing? Did you fall down the stairs?” the director kept on teasing.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “If you must know, I was mugged last night,” he replied, trying to deliver the best performance of the day. So far, it had worked pretty well with the members of his team, but he knew that fooling Obi-Wan would require extra effort. “I went out with a girl in Saint-Michel and after I dropped her off I was cornered by two guys. We struggled and they pinned me down on the floor… That's where I hurt my face.”

Obi-Wan finished stirring his coffee and frowned. “Yes, that’s what I’ve heard, but you see, bollocks have this distinctive smell…”

Anakin rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Obi-Wan spoke in his usual paced and soft tone.

“Anakin, I’ve known you for years, ever since you were in college. I’ve seen you through your toughest challenges both academic and professional… and I can tell when you are stressed.” Despite being only about ten years older than Anakin, Obi-Wan’s blue eyes seemed to shine with the wisdom of a whole galaxy.

Indeed, there had been many instances in which Obi-Wan had helped him through moments of utter helplessness, both professional and personal, but there seemed to be a huge leap between daily life issues and perpetrating someone else’s misery. He was not fully sure about the source of his anger--Ahsoka’s father, himself, life--thus, he didn’t know where to start. That was why he had decided to do what Anakin had been doing best for the last few years: avoid the subject.

“I’m still a little shaken from last night, that’s all.”

“Look, if you don’t want to tell me about it, that’s fine… but at least don’t lie to me.” Obi-Wan always twitched his lip when he was upset, and not even his moustache could hide it.

Letting out a deep sigh, Anakin decided to make an objective, yet concise, narration. “Something happened with Ahsoka last night,” he began. He told him in detail about the texts and how she had been hiding in his bedroom until he arrived, but then carefully chose his words for the last part of the story. As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, Anakin had only pushed the man back.

“Well, I’m glad Ahsoka is fine,” Obi-Wan finally said, “but Anakin… you must be careful. If you meddle too much, you could have serious legal problems. She’s still a minor.”

He needn’t remind Anakin of that. “She won’t be in a few months, and then she won’t have to worry anymore,” he retorted cheekily.

“Still. I don’t want you to go to prison.”

There it was once more, the dark flame from his chest to his head and up to every single fingertip. “I will not!” he barked, louder than he had intended. He took a breath and clenched his jaw trying to calm himself. “I’m just… You know I’m just doing what my mom would've wanted. I won’t leave Ahsoka  _ alone _ . I won’t leave her unprotected, against a whole world which wants  _ nothing  _ but to see her  _ fail _ . I won’t leave her side unless she explicitly asks me to. She  _ needs  _ me.”

Obi-Wan regarded him carefully and then he finally placed an arm across Anakin’s shoulders. “Shmi would be very proud of you, boy. But you also have to take care of yourself.”

While Anakin nodded, he denied Obi-Wan’s last claim. Not that he didn’t want to do it… but he was convinced he didn’t deserve it. After all, compassion was for those worthy of love.

“I got an email from the fiberglass provider this morning,” he changed the subject. “They sent the supplies yesterday, so they’re probably in reception right now. I’ll have the team work on the calibrations so that the line assembly can have it as soon as possible.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, albeit smiling. “Always on the move.”

* * *

It wasn’t often that Anakin Skywalker found himself in a good mood, but as he parked outside the Arlington Social Services on Saturday evening coming for work, he thought to himself that the last few days had been an oasis of normalcy. He entered the staff room when apparently everyone else had already arrived. He gave a general greeting to the group and decided to stand by the wall, as everyone else was already occupying the chairs and couches. Anakin met Mr Palpatine’s eyes and the old man smiled kindly at him; it was then that he remembered the last time he had seen Palpatine he had introduced Anakin to that psychologist. ‘Shit,’ Anakin thought, immediately worried she had complained about the short argument they had had, but the old man seemed to be as serene as always. Maybe the girl hadn’t complained to the director at all, which would have been a pleasant surprise.

When Mr Palpatine opened a file he had in front of him, everyone started to make themselves quiet. Luminara, who had been pouring herself a cup of coffee, walked past Anakin in order to return to her chair.

“Been a while since I last saw you, Skywalker,” she said.

“Three months since the last meeting, if I’m not wrong,” he replied, smiling.

Luminara nodded smiling and continued her way to the opposite side of the room, where she sat next to the pampered, uptown girl he had had the pleasure to meet the previous weekend. She was staring at him intently. Her glossy and curly hair was tied in the most childish of tails, and her off-shoulder shirt unsuccessfully deviated his attention from the cliché gold chain around her tiny neck. He held her gaze, trying to show her that her deep brown eyes would not unsettle him.

“Well, everyone, good evening and thank you for coming,” Mr Palpatine began, snapping them both out of their staring contest. “As you already know, the purpose of this meeting is to organise the upcoming fundraiser for the center. Here with us today is Mr Dooku, from the Mayor’s office,” he signaled to a white-bearded man who was sitting next to him. Mr Dooku bowed his head politely to the room. “He came earlier to sign a few documents and he agreed to stay for this meeting to let you know about Arlington’s City Hall involvement in the fundraiser.”

“Indeed,” Dooku spoke in a ceremonious manner. “Both the Mayor and l believe that this Center is a very important asset for the town of Arlington, and we are pleased to collaborate in any way we can.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. He hated politicians.

“I have been in talks with Sheev,” Dooku gestured to Palpatine, “and he has informed me of his plan to host a larger event, which would require more staff and special supplies. In order to guarantee everyone’s safety and the correct management of the sums of money the Center expects to collect, we will provide the event with safeboxes and registers.”

The news caused a ripple of approval in the room.

“I believe I speak for everyone present when I say how truly grateful we are, Mr Dooku,” Mr Palpatine said, unknowingly demonstrating he was unable to read Anakin’s mind. “Given that we have already decided on the theme, which will be ‘The 80s’, Secretary Mas Amedda and I have come up with a list of tasks from which I would like you to choose,” he moved on, as his second in command at the center pulled out a piece of paper with a table chart on it. “We have two weeks, so the sooner we get started, the better.”

All the attendees soon started to choose which activities they would be in charge of organizing, while Anakin waited patiently. He knew he would be in charge of the go-karts circuit as in every single event, but the rest of the people negotiated on the 5k run, the board games, the concert, the dancing classes, the football tournament, and the food stands. That process took no less than half an hour, time in which he productively checked his social networks feeds. When the discussiones seemed to be reaching an end, he put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Luminara, who was talking at that moment, and noticed that Padmé was staring at him once again, but she averted her gaze immediately. He bit his tongue so as not to curse.

“...and apart from promoting the fundraiser in papers, radio, and so on, I think we should also put signs on,” Luminara said. “I have already printed about sixty of them, and I was thinking that we should put them up as soon as possible.”

“Well, is there anyone who hasn’t been assigned any tasks prior to the fundraiser yet?” Palpatine asked, looking around. Anakin uncrossed one of his arms to raise his palm. Unfortunately, the only other person who did too was Padmé, who shot her hand up above her head. “Wonderful! Then the two of you could maybe work together tomorrow and put these around Saint-Michel and Arlington,” Palpatine concluded and closed his file.

‘No,’ Anakin thought. ‘Wait. No. No. Shit.’ Without further discussion, and immediately assuming that Anakin was approved of the dictamination, everyone started to gather their belongings and leave.

Frozen in place, Anakin and Padmé shared a look one more time--except that, for the first time, they perfectly understood what the other was feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all so much for your very kind comments in Ch1!! I was not expecting so many and such nice words! ♥ Your kudos and comments made my days brighter and I would seriously appreciate it if you could review this chapter as well! ♥  
> I would also like to acknowledge the incredible patience of my betas, @ktyuza and @7xcookiex7 ♥  
> Now, here’s an important message: Everyone, please, take all the necessary measures to prevent the spread of Coronavirus. I’m in quarantine in Spain and it is no joke. The most important thing is not to collapse hospitals! Many people who need all sorts of treatments might be left with no medical care if we’re not responsible. Since I have to stay at home for the next 15 days, I will do my best to write the next chapter before the end of March =)


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